


I Did With You

by flwd



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Best Friends, Confessions, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, big love small town, carpenter!tobin, corporate!christen, kinda slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:20:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25650502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flwd/pseuds/flwd
Summary: They grew apart. Seven years later, will they find their way back?
Relationships: Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Comments: 89
Kudos: 324





	1. Hit Me Like A Hurricane

Sunlight peeked through the window of Tobin’s bedroom. It’s that time in the morning where it hits her at just the right angle on her face, warming her enough to stir her from her sleep, that is if she actually was still asleep. She’s been up for the past hour, rudely awakened by the same dream on repeat since… well since...

_It doesn’t matter._ She stopped her thoughts before it began to spiral. After a few more minutes of mindless staring at her ceiling, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The cool, salty air coming through the slightly cracked open window filled up her lungs. She let it ground her, and slowly opened her eyes.

She kicked the bedsheets off of her and padded to the kitchen to make herself some coffee. After opening every cupboard and finding nothing but tea bags and a few jars of protein powder, she rubbed her temples.

“Shit.”

Of course, she’s out of coffee. She ran out of it yesterday and made a mental note to grab some more on her next grocery run. But she forgot, as expected. She’s had a lot on her mind lately: the woodshop, the new community project she’s been tasked to lead, this new girl who may be too clingy to be in more than a casual arrangement… coffee should have been on top of the list given her workload, but when she went to the store, she didn’t think she would run into someone on her “list of people to avoid because it’s just awkward.” 

But in a small town, it was really impossible to not have awkward run-ins with anyone you’re trying to avoid. Stacy Press was sweet, everybody loved her. At some point in Tobin’s young life, she was like a second mother to her. But she simply had too much history with her family, especially with one of her daughters. So when Stacy found Tobin in the coffee aisle, and cornered her, it resulted in a very awkward exchange of pleasantries. Tobin wanted to crawl into one of those crates around the corner and be shipped off to some faraway island, never to be seen again. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option so she just used her go-to excuse of being busy with the woodshop as an out. 

But not before Stacy dropped a bomb on her, right as she turned around and headed for the exit.

_“You should come visit soon! I’m sure Mo would love to see you!”_

Tobin was so sure that an earthquake was happening in the middle of that store as soon as those words reached her ears. How else would she explain why she felt like the whole damn world suddenly shifted underneath her?

She’s back. 

She groaned at the memory of yesterday's encounter. Tobin headed to the bathroom sink and splashed her face with water, hoping to snap herself out of her thoughts. She quickly freshened up and changed into a new white shirt and denim shorts. She looked at her hair in the mirror. She couldn’t be bothered by her bed head so she ran her fingers through it a few times before fixing her orange beanie on top of it. Satisfied, she then grabbed the keys to her truck from the kitchen counter and headed out to the nearby coffee shop for her much needed caffeine fix.

-

“The day’s still too young for you to have that grumpy look on your face, missy.”

Tobin looked up from her mug as her friend and owner of the coffee shop, Ali, refilled her coffee. She could always read her easily. They’ve been friends since middle school after Tobin’s family moved into the small coastal town. Ali, being the sweetheart that she is, was the first one to sit next to a shy Tobin at lunchtime. They’ve been through it all in detentions, sleepovers, any sport they could play (but soccer was their favorite out of all), awkward crushes, acne breakouts and cheap box hair dyes, first dates with a boy only to realize that they didn’t compare with a single kiss on the cheek from a girl you definitely have a crush on. 

Tobin smiled, “Good morning, Al.”

“There she is. What’s up, Tobs?”

Tobin cut right to the chase, there was no use beating around the bush with her friend, “She’s back.”

Ali frowned at her words, finally understanding why her friend was in such a mood today. She knew Tobin so well, she could probably write her friend’s biography herself. She knew exactly who Tobin was referring to which is why she knew just how much this affected Tobin. In fact, she actually got word a few days ago about the same news. She was just waiting for the right time to break the news easily before she arrived. 

She set down the coffee pot and sat across the table, “Ah, so you’ve heard…” she began to say.

Tobin raised an eyebrow, “you knew?”

“Yeah, sorry, Tobs. I found out a few days ago after Stacy dropped by here. The woman was excited. I didn’t know how to tell you right away because,” she gestured at her, “well, you.”

She smirked, “Stacy’s actually the one who told me. Ran into her at the grocery yesterday. It was so awkward I ran out of there so fast I forgot to buy more coffee.”

“Damn.” 

“Yeah.”

“Well at least I got to see that pretty face of yours this morning,” she said as she playfully squeezed Tobin’s cheeks and that cheered her up.

“Alright, alright I missed you too,” swatting Ali’s hands away. She began to stand up from her seat. “Hey, can I actually get this to-go? I’ve gotta get runnin’. Lots of stuff to work on at the shop today.”

“You couldn’t have told me this earlier,” Ali rolled her eyes, “Always making me work extra.”

Tobin laughed, “Always.”

-

Tobin grabbed the hem of her shirt and wiped the sweat that’s been dripping from her forehead all afternoon. She then took a step back. “Dope,” she said, admiring the new table she’s built. 

It’s early June and the summer heat is definitely starting to set in. A soft yet poppy country song had been blasting from the speakers she built into “The Shack” as she often refers to her workshop: A four-walled, converted garage type space just a stone’s throw away from her house. It was well equipped with all kinds of saws and tools that allowed her to build anything she can grab a blueprint on. 

She was in the zone, working on building new tables and benches for the local outdoor recreation center she volunteered at. Woodworking is how she makes her living, taking in custom furniture orders, but service is what sustains the brown-eyed brunette. She’s always been crafty with her hands. When she went to join the AmeriCorps right after college, she was able to pick up some carpentry skills on the job, traveling all over the country helping rebuild some of the poorest, far flung communities.

After 2 years in service, never staying in one place for more than a few months, she decided it was time to go home and give back to the community that raised her. It was just unfortunate that a month after Tobin started to settle back in, a hurricane devastated their coastal town. Tobin, who was still living farther in-land with her parents in their estate at the time, didn’t feel the economic damage on a personal level. 

But the aftermath of the storm left significant damage to the area and Tobin has been determined to use her privilege to rebuild and help out in any way she could. It took a year for them to finally get most of the town back on their feet. But there’s still more work to be done so she decided to move out and get a place near where the storm made its heaviest damage to offer more direct services. She wanted to be closer to the community as well, get to know the people more.

“You know, I never pegged you to be a Taylor Swift kinda gal,” a nasally voice shouted through the music.

Her attention was drawn to the shack’s huge entryway where a small-framed, blonde woman was leaning against the side door. Her arms were crossed and eyebrows raised, a huge smirk plastered on her face like she'd just discovered Tobin’s well-kept secret. Great, Tobin groaned internally.

Tobin moved to turn off the music right as the blonde moved into her space.

“Hey, Toby,” she said as she trailed her finger right along Tobin’s strong jawline, to which the taller woman reflexively grabbed her wrist to stop the girl.

“Tori,” she squeaked.

“Oh, Toby…” she teased, “I love how easily flustered you get with me.” Tobin inched back, creating more distance between them.

“What are you doing here?" Tobin asked. Tori turned around and began to fidget with some of the tools around the shop. "Please don't touch that," she warned the girl. 

Tori quickly dropped the screwdriver. But she kept slowly strutting around. Tobin is shifting on her feet now, she really doesn’t like it when other people mess around her space. The blonde stepped further into the shop and that allowed Tobin to take a full look at her. She was wearing a tight fitting skirt and a really skimpy rock and roll t-shirt from an obscure band she probably doesn’t even listen to. 

“Let’s go out tonight," Tori answered.

Tobin scoffed and started to get back to her work, “Hard pass.”

She grabs the manual sanding block and starts to move it back and forth on the newly put together table. It probably wasn’t the best idea because Tori could just see the carpenter’s biceps flexing, sweat and dust sticking, through her cut off tee. This motivated her.

“Come on, Toby. You work too much, you need to relieve some of that... tension,” she starts walking back to her, “and I happen to be good company for that sort of thing.”

“First of all, please stop calling me that nickname,” she winced. She hated that nickname. "Second, I can’t. I have to finish these orders by next weekend if I want to keep my good rep with the Mayor. The town needs these.”

“Oh come on, Tobin." The blonde not having it, "You seem to be just fine skipping work last week,” Tori said as she lifts Tobin’s chin and winked at her suggestively.

“That was last week," she stood and began to dust herself off, "Today’s a new day! Blank slate and all." There’s no way she was going to be able to keep working now that Tori has started her pestering.

“Ugh. You know," Tori said, "for someone who claims to be ‘chill’ or whatever, you’re being very stubborn right now.”

Tobin took a deep breath, she hated being called uptight, but she really didn’t want to go out with Tori tonight. Not when there’s another girl running laps on her mind since yesterday. (Well, for the past 7 years now actually. And technically, 11 years now if you start from the first day of Freshman year of high school when she first saw those piercing green eyes that got her hooked right away. But who’s counting, right?)

“Can I take a rain check?” she compromised, knowing the girl won’t relent.

The girl pouted and gave up, “You’re lucky I like you, Toby.” She walked away as if like a supermodel trying to show off her... assets, but there wasn’t much of it to really catch Tobin’s attention.

“Have a fun night.” Tobin said finally, not even caring enough to make sure the girl heard her.

When Tori was out of sight, she turned the speakers back on and grabbed her phone from the dock. She switched the music to a random rap playlist, ego a little bruised from earlier. But after two songs she just couldn’t concentrate and switched back to the poppy country playlist she had put on. She shrugged to no one, “Who cares.” Maybe she is a little softie underneath all that cool exterior. 

-

Tobin was about to tuck herself in bed exhausted from the day’s work, eager to be able to sleep in the next day since it’s a Saturday, when her phone started buzzing on her nightstand. She let it ring for a few more times, having a slight clue on who’s calling her at this hour, dreading to pick up. She looked at the digital clock next to it. It was already half past 9. When she realized that this caller won’t stop, she finally swiped her screen to answer. She wasn’t even able to put a syllable in before she heard shouting from a familiar, nasally voice on the other end.

“Tobyyy!” 

“Tori. What do you want?” she asked.

“I need y-” her voice got cut off and someone more composed and clearly sober took over.

“Hey, Tobin. It’s Ash,” the voice said, “I’m sorry but your friend has had too many for the night. Can you take her home? I’m closing up tonight and I don’t really know who else to trust with her drunk ass.”

“I’m on my way,” she sighed. Tobin got up and grabbed her jacket and keys, not even bothering to change out of her grey sweatpants.

-

The bar door swung open and Ashlyn spotted her right away. Her taller, tattooed friend led her to one of the back and into one of the booths where Tori was already slumped over the table, surrounded by some of her tipsy friends. The way Tobin’s face screwed up upon seeing the scene made Ash giggle.

“Goodluck, Tobs.” She gave Tobin two sympathetic pats on the back before heading back to the bar that she was managing.

She rubbed at her neck, clearly not looking forward to the task at hand and already feeling more stressed than usual, “Thanks, Ash.”

She poked the blonde’s arm to wake her up. When she saw Tobin had come to rescue her, it seemed to zap some life back into her and she started getting all flirty again, despite being unable to form coherent sentences at that point. Her speech slurred altogether. Tobin picked her up, letting Tori put her arm around her shoulder and lean into her for balance as they began to trudge towards the exit. 

“You just caaaaan’t he-help it can y-you,” she hiccuped.

“Help what?”

“B-being everyone’s h-herooooo,” Tori continued in a singsong manner, “M-myyyy heroooo.” 

Tobin ignored her and decided to focus on just getting them out of there. She was too caught up in finding Tori earlier that she forgot it was a Friday night and the bar is definitely starting to fill up with more people. She didn’t want to cause any scenes. But it seemed like the universe decided that this week was pick-on-Tobin week, and tonight was the main event. As soon as they both stepped through the bar doors she bumped into someone, almost knocking the three of them off their feet. 

She managed to brace herself and keep both her and Tori standing. So did the other person, a woman.

“Oh my god,” Tobin said, “I’m so sorry!” Her eyes scanned the woman from the leg up. Skinny jeans that hugged her in all the right places, a cropped grey tank top that showed just enough skin that shouldn’t be legal, small shoulders and perfectly toned arms, cascaded by loose dark curls, worn half up half down.

But as she reached the woman’s face, her stomach dropped.  
She found herself staring into green eyes.

“Christen.” 

And she swears she could hear the universe giggling at her luck.


	2. Burn Up In Your Atmosphere

Tobin removed her jacket and flopped onto her grey couch. She sunk so low into it and silently wished it would swallow her whole. After two vomits and a half, she finally managed to tuck Tori in her bed. For a small woman, that girl was unusually strong when drunk. 

Tobin had to wrestle the blonde away from her body when she tried to help her change into more comfortable clothes, thinking that Tobin wanted to do something else. But Tobin would never take advantage of anyone like that. Thankfully, Tori eventually passed out from her drunken stupor. She left a glass of water and some painkillers on the nightstand before heading out to her living room with a blanket and a pillow.

She sat like that in complete darkness for a few more minutes. If she concentrated enough, she could hear the faint sound of the waves gently lapping on the shore a few miles from her house. But all she could hear was how her name sounded so good in Christen’s voice and all she could see were those green eyes that she hadn’t seen in a long while.

Tobin’s resolve broke down and she pulled her phone out. The room was now slightly illuminated by the faint glow of the device. 

She opened her Instagram.

She would never admit this to anyone, but just like any other human being, she yearned. Tobin knows it’s not a healthy habit, but she insta-stalks Christen, especially on nights when she’s had a couple beers or five. Although the brunette wasn’t a fan of social media, Instagram was an exception. For some reason, Christen really liked posting on Instagram more than her other accounts and so Tobin never had the heart to delete the app completely. She still cares deeply for the woman, despite everything that went down between the two of them many years ago. Tobin still had no clear idea why the girl just completely shut her out instead of trying to fix things. She still holds out hope that she'll get her answers.

She never thought she’d end up resorting to creepy social media stalking to check up on her. But she can’t really ask the girl about how she’s doing anymore. She can’t listen to how much Christen’s roommate sucked at cleaning up after herself. She can’t ask her what she thought about the new playlist that she made for her so she could listen to it whenever she was feeling sad or whenever she missed her. She can’t ask her how wasted Christen’s friends got while she swears she’s such a responsible young adult for refusing to drink. 

There was a time that she knew almost everything that happened to Christen’s day. Now she just watches her life play out in pictures on a small screen, trying to guess the story behind what each photo or caption meant. Piecing together a narrative that she no longer has a role in. 

Sometimes, there won’t be a post for weeks and the urge to call her number felt like strong waves unceremoniously hitting her as each day of silence went by. (As if she still had the number saved on her phone. She’s got it memorized though, another thing she’ll never admit.) But then, Christen would start posting again and she regains her self-control.

Tobin realized that she had just been blankly staring at the screen as her thoughts wandered. She focused back on her phone.

Christen posted a new picture.

Christen’s got a drink in her hand and she was caught in a mid-laugh, nose all crinkled, her slightly uneven front teeth on full display, which Tobin always thought was so damn cute. On her left was a gorgeous blonde woman laughing as well. Tobin can’t remember her name at the moment but she saw that they were both laughing at what the other person on Christen’s right said. It was Crystal, a shorter black woman they both went to high school with. They were all on the soccer team together, too. She remembered how quick-witted and funny their mutual friend was so it made sense that Christen was laughing ear to ear in the photo. But Crystal was closer to Christen, apparently so, since Christen chose to hang out with her on a Friday night after years of absence. That stung a little bit. How come she kept in touch with Crystal but not her?

When she realized she was already three past summers deep into Christen’s profile, she decided to call it a night. She locked her phone and threw it dramatically on the other end of the couch. She laid back, facing the slow revolution of the ceiling fan. Her thoughts drifted back to a few hours ago.

 _“Christen.”_ She internally cringed as she remembered how her voice sounded saying the name out loud again. Tobin has spent so many nights playing out scenarios of how she and Christen would finally see each other again. But what happened earlier was definitely a curve-ball.

-

“Christen.”

“Tobin?”

They spoke at the same time. 

“Tori!” the wasted blonde woman all over Tobin added, “Toby, why are we saying our names?”

 _Crap._ This was not a good look. Tobin was suddenly super conscious of how the whole thing looked, how she looked like, especially in front of Christen. She should have changed out of her sweatpants before coming here. She should have brushed her hair a little more carefully. But why was she suddenly so concerned? It’s not like Christen cared who she was hanging out with. They haven’t seen each other in years! 

Christen eyed the woman that clung to Tobin’s side then back at Tobin. Was that a blush on her face? She couldn’t really tell from the dim lighting. Another beat passed and green eyes were now stuck staring into honey-brown ones. She didn’t need any more illumination to know what they looked like, though. Everything was so familiar, yet so awkward. Neither knew what else to say until their trance was broken by the sound of retching.

“Whoa, hey” Tobin said as she quickly attended to Tori and tried to move her away from the entrance and onto the curb. Christen moved to help as well, as Tobin tried to keep the hunched-over woman on her toes, she pulled some of the blonde’s hair away from her face.

“Someone’s had a fun night,” said Christen.

Tobin hummed in response. When Tori was done heaving, they both walked her over to Tobin’s truck. As Tobin buckled Tori in, Christen walked away and stood waiting in front of the vehicle. Tobin closed the door and instinctively shoved her hands in her pockets. She approached her carefully, each step felt like her legs slowly turned into lead, getting heavier and heavier while her knees felt weak from how good Christen looked underneath the one lamp post in the parking lot. Still as pretty as the last time she laid eyes on her.

“Sorry about that.” Tobin said when she reached her, eyes suddenly very interested on the concrete pavement.

“No worries,” Christen assured her with a small smile, “I’ve had my fair share of not-so-great moments with alcohol as well.”

Tobin looked up from that new information, “Really?”

“Yeah,” Christen said shyly now, averting her gaze. 

Tobin studied her face as she waited for Christen to tell her more, remembering how their dynamic used to work. Christen would talk, Tobin would eagerly listen. But reality crept in and that was all in the past now. She can feel a dull ache forming in her chest, but she tries to ignore it.

Tobin cleared her throat, “So umm-”

“So anyways-” Christen said almost simultaneously. 

They both laugh at how out of sync they were for the second time that night. It seemed to break the tension. 

Christen’s phone buzzed. A text. 

“I’ve gotta head in,” she waved her phone, “The cavalry’s looking for me.”

“Of course. I’ve gotta head back too,” Tobin gestured towards her truck, “long night ahead.”

Christen’s eyes widened for a split second but she managed to switch to a neutral expression before Tobin could catch it. Tobin on the other hand, just realized the insinuation of what she just said.

“Wait, no. That’s not what I- I just mean that… We’re not really- Tori’s hard to take care of- ” she started rambling.

“Hey, hey...” Christen cut her off, “I know what you meant.” 

Tobin was caught off-guard by what happened next. Christen reached out and as soon as her gentle hand wrapped around Tobin’s wrist, everything else faded into the background. All of Tobin’s senses were now suddenly focused on the warmth and softness that Christen’s hand provided. This was real. All of the butterflies in her stomach that she thought she had freed all those years ago were suddenly dancing around again, which only confirmed how much the woman still affected her. 

Christen continued, “It’s okay, Tobin.”

Christen let go and the loss of contact helped Tobin regain her thoughts. 

“Goodnight, Christen,” she said as she started to walk towards the driver door.

“I’ll see you around?” Was that hopefulness in the green-eyed woman’s voice?

Tobin gave a tight-lipped smile, “See you around.”

-

The blades of the ceiling fan slowly focused as Tobin’s thoughts snapped back into the present. Christen was really back now. What happened earlier was real, but with it comes the many questions that she’s been wanting to ask Christen. And if she was being completely honest? There’s also bitterness. She didn’t deserve to be shut out like that. She was really hurt. She wanted to be angry too, and she was for a long time. But she knew Christen. Maybe Christen had a really good reason. Maybe she'll finally get her answers.

It took about five hundred more spins before her brain finally got tired and she drifted off to sleep. Completely unaware of how her phone lit up once again with a text from an unsaved number.

_Hey, Tobin. It’s Christen. It was really good to see you again. I’m sorry I had to ask Crystal for your number since I forgot to ask you for it earlier. Do you want to go grab coffee sometime?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm blown away by the really kind comments from everyone who's read my fic so far. Thank you so much! I'm sorry if I don't respond to each one, just know that I read them all. 
> 
> Again, thank you! Stay safe.


	3. Damn You, Seventeen

Two days earlier.

Christen leaned on the wooden railing of the backyard patio. She carefully set her half finished cup of tea on it while she stared off into the distance, the shoreline in view. Today is Wednesday and it was her third day of being back at her parents’ house.

She missed this view. 

She’d been lucky enough to have called this two-storey beach house her home till she went away for college. And now she’s back. The sun hasn't come up yet, but it’s slowly breaking into the purple and blue sky. She could spot a few seagulls leisurely walking on the sand, enjoying the few moments of peace that the lack of human presence offered. Small boats were slowly being dragged out into the sea by some of the local fishermen hoping to return with their nets filled, knowing that these were the prime times for catching fish. 

A blinking light caught her attention. It was the lighthouse, the only one in town. Eighty feet high, made of brick and stone, still standing strong despite the turbulent weather that threatens to topple it every now and then. It has been around since the town was formed and it has endured the test of time. Christen thought fondly and a small smile formed on her face. 

To the community, the lighthouse was a beacon of safety and hope. It has kept generations of sailors and fishermen safe and able to return home to their families every night. But to Christen, that lighthouse meant so much more. It reminded her of her teenage years. Those endless summer days when school was closed and she and her friends would just ride their bikes up to the cliff’s edge where it stood. They would gather beneath its shadow every sunset and feel the wind on their faces, soaking in whatever life had to offer around them. However, while everyone else in her class was content with living the small town life, Christen wanted more. The endless horizon in front of her paralleled the infinite things she wanted to achieve in life, and she couldn’t do that by staying there. So she mostly kept that ambition to herself, except for one person–Tobin Heath.

And so she _shared_ that lighthouse with Tobin. Actually, Tobin showed her the lighthouse first. It was freshman year of high school and Christen’s family had just moved into town. Her parents were real estate developers and the town was one of many that experienced an uptick in homebuyers looking to settle in a coastal area. 

Tobin and Christen became fast friends, although you’d never think the two would get along so well together because they are quite the opposites when it came to their personalities. But the normally shy and unassuming brown-eyed girl was sat next to the headstrong Christen Press, who was new and had no friends, so Christen made it her mission to befriend whoever sat next to her during homeroom. They became inseparable all throughout high school. 

All of their hopes and dreams, their fears and doubts, they both shared it with each other in that lighthouse. While it wasn’t necessarily illegal, they were the only ones who ever dared to go in and up the tower– thanks to Tobin’s sense of adventure and some courage brought on by her enabler– they managed to find the spare key that opened the old, rusty door of the lighthouse. They would spend most nights tracing constellations together or listening to the sound boats on the harbor. Not knowing what their future held but feeling secure that no matter what, they were always going to be there for each other.

Christen’s smile disappeared. Those memories were several lifetimes ago. She was in her mid-twenties now. The lighthouse, nothing but cold brick and stone. She grabbed her cup and drank the rest of her tea. Her brows furrowed as it reached her lips, having lost its warmth from being untouched for too long, but not wanting to waste it. She headed back inside as soon as the sun started to warm the earth. She still had to meet Crystal later that day.

-

"Hey, Mo." 

"Hmm?" Christen answered, not looking up from her laptop. She sat on one of the kitchen barstools right across where Stacy was chopping some onions. She wanted to keep her mom company while she was making dinner but she also wanted to catch up on some work emails that started to build up in her inbox.

"Doesn't your work technically start on Monday?" 

"Yeah," Christen sighed. She knew where this conversation was going, she continued, "I'm just trying to get a head start on some of the first phase plans of this project, make it a little easier for me."

"If I had known that sending you away to college was gonna turn you into a boring young adult, I would've just saved some of that college fund, honey." Stacy deadpanned, "I mean, even on vacation hours, you still want to work. How ever will you find a nice man…"

Christen's eyes snapped up at this, ready to argue, but as soon as she did she saw the small smirk that Stacy couldn't keep in.

"Ugh, mom," she huffed, knowing that she fell for her mom’s antics again. "You're so annoying."

Stacy let out a hearty laugh. She always knew how to push her daughter's buttons. Stacy picked up her nicely chopped onions from the cutting board and started to sauté them along with some chicken on the skillet behind her. When she turned around, she could see Christen’s eyes still glued to her work. She shook her head.

"Guess who I saw at the store today," Stacy said, trying to hold her workaholic daughter's attention, and she knows just the thing that would pique her interest.

"Who?" 

"Honey, you have to guess." Stacy’s strategy was working. Christen, ever impatient and always wanting to know the answer to everything, was now listing names off the top of her head of who it could have been, but careful to avoid that one name that always echoed in her mind.

"I give up just tell me," her eyes were now staring at her mom with such intensity.

But Stacy, ever the tease, decides to continue focusing on dinner prep, slowly cutting into the avocados, dragging it out a few seconds longer letting the anticipation build just so she can catch how Christen would react.

"Oh," she said finally, "it was just Tobin." At the mention of the name, Stacy was careful to watch Christen’s face as soon as she said the T-word.

Christen may be stoic but the way her shoulders slightly slumped didn't go unnoticed. While Stacy was every bit of a matriarch in the household, she was never really one to pry about her daughter's personal relationships. But what happened between Christen and Tobin might just be the exception. She saw how close the two were when they were younger. Tobin hung out with Christen in their house almost everyday for four years– probably even more than Christen’s two other teenage sisters. 

In a way, this gave her so much comfort because she witnessed how protective the two were of each other and that meant that Christen would always have someone looking out for her. When all that suddenly stopped after their Thanksgiving break coming back from their first semester of college, Stacy didn't know what to do. Christen looked so distraught that time, she just waited for Christen to open up to her when she was ready. But to this day, she doesn't know the full story. All she knows is that Christen's smile was never as bright anymore and mentioning Tobin’s name made her flinch instead of the excited little puppy dog eyes she used to have. She loved her Mo so much, a nickname short for _morena_ since Christen was the tanner one compared to her sisters, she's willing to break her code and meddle, just a little bit if it meant she got that smile back.

When Christen didn't give any verbal acknowledgement, she decided to keep on. "I told her she could come by the house anytime," she said feigning nonchalance, keeping busy with her cooking. 

"Mom!" Christen's eyes grew wide, "Why would you do that?" 

With the chicken thoroughly cooked, she started to transfer it to a bowl. "Why not, Mo? It's been years. Don't you think it's time to patch things up or at least just start acknowledging each other's existence again? Don't you miss your best friend?" she explained.

Christen closed her laptop. She considered her mom’s words. She had a point. But Christen didn't want to unpack all of the emotions she's been feeling since she got back. But it did make her admit one thing to her mom, "Yeah, I do miss her."

Stacy softened at this. She wished she could do something more but for now, this breakthrough was enough. 

"Hey, Mo" she held out a spoon with some salsa on it, "Come taste for me."

Christen walked to her mother's side and had a taste. Letting out a satisfied sigh she remarked, "I missed your cooking." She leaned her head on Stacy’s left shoulder, "Thanks, Mom."

Stacy wrapped her arm around her and kissed her temple in return. "Go on, get your father from the garage. It's Taco Thursday night!"

-

Christen was already a few minutes late. She hated being late to things, even when being on time doesn't really matter. But she cursed her stupid phone for not having a strong enough data she needed to keep her Google Maps working. She should have just gotten an Uber but she saw their old Honda Civic sitting in the driveway and figured she might as well make use of it just like in high school. She was on her way to the new-ish bar downtown to meet with Crystal, one of her closest friends from high school, and with Julie Ertz, Crystal's workmate slash best friend who also went to high school with them but was a year younger. They needed a girls night out, Crystal insisted.

When she got there, she became preoccupied with sneaking in a few more work emails on her phone. She didn’t notice the bar door swing open. She bumped into someone, hard. Almost knocking her off balance. 

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!"

 _No. My luck couldn't be that bad, could it?_ She thought quickly when she heard the voice– a voice she hadn't heard in a long time.

"Tobin?" Christen couldn't believe it as she scanned Tobin up and down. She was in her grey oversized sweatpants and a jacket, hair a little tousled and wavy loose, which was unsurprising. Tobin dressed in a way that captured her personality. She looked cool and comfortable and easy. It wasn't fair that Tobin managed to pull off any variation of her 'chill' outfits, but Christen didn't mind. It was one of the reasons why Christen loved being around her all the time. 

"Tori!" another voice chimed in, breaking Christen's gaze. _Oh._ She looked at Tobin and then another woman, a blonde and _very drunk_ woman, stuck like a leech to Tobin’s side. She scanned Tobin’s face, almost certain that she could see her cheeks turning red. Then it clicked. _Ohh._ Suddenly, she was feeling really annoyed– and she didn't know why. But there’s this thing Christen has trained herself to do all these years. Any inconvenient and irrational thought she had, she kept safe in one of her emotion boxes, either left to be unpacked later or kept in storage forever or at least until it could be ignored.

Then, like a force of habit, she got stuck staring at Tobin’s honey-brown eyes. They were darker than usual from the dim lighting, but she knew what they look like under the soft, golden glow of a sunset. To Christen, Tobin's were like pools of honey that you could just drown in. As if God, herself decided that she was going to use a drop of that sunset glow and create Tobin’s eyes that would make her feel warm all over with just a single glance. Like they would–

A gagging sound disrupted her thoughts. She saw the woman– Tori, apparently– hunching over. That night was shaping to be a whole Amazon delivery truck's worth of boxes on her mind.  
-

When she finally went inside, it was slightly crowded. She spotted Crystal and Julie at the bar and made her way over. It seemed that they had already managed to befriend the bartender which worked in her favor.

"Three tequila shots please," she interrupted. 

The bleach-blonde headed bartender, who had full sleeve tattoos on both arms, happily obliged, "Coming right up, ma'am."

"Ohhh girl," Crystal laughed, "is triple P making an appearance tonight?"

"Triple P?" Julie asked.

"Party Princess Press!" 

"Ugh," Christen cringed, "I'll never live that night down huh." She said, referring to that one time Crystal came over to visit Christen at college for a weekend's girls night out and she might have gotten a little carried away with the booze.

The bartender set three shot glasses in front of them and started pouring away.

"Thanks, Ash!" Julie said.

Christen quickly knocked back her shot. "More," she flashed the bartender (Ash was it?) her charming smile, "please." She hoped she would forgive her crassness. But she really needed to wash down the pathetic feeling that's been brewing in her after Tobin left.

Either it worked or Ash just couldn’t be bothered because it was her job after all, but she reciprocated with an equally bright smile herself, and more shots of course.

Crystal raised an eyebrow at her. "I bumped into Tobin outside the bar a few minutes ago," Christen explained.

"Oh, shit." 

"Tobin? As in Heath? What about her?" Julie wondered.

Crystal then turned to Julie, "I hope you got some ibuprofen in your purse. We're going to be sporting hangovers tomorrow."

-

Christen had to be Ubered home that night. She would just have to pick up her car the next day. She didn't get too drunk, thanks to Crystal and Julie, but she wasn’t that sober either. She was in the backseat and all she could think about was Tobin. 

She knew this day would come, the day they would meet again. She'd rehearsed everything she would say to Tobin when that day arrived. Tell her why she never replied to her texts or calls anymore. Tell her how stupid she was for hurting her like that. Tell her how sorry she was, even if Tobin doesn't forgive her, she just wanted her to know that she had been living in regret ever since.

But life had a funny way of shitting on your plans sometimes. She didn’t expect to be so overwhelmed with Tobin's presence again that all those rehearsed lines were basically thrown out the window like a first time actor's debut missing lines on opening night.

She impulsively reached for Tobin’s hand, which seemed to startle the brunette. _Great, now she’s going to hate me even more for assaulting her like that._ But Tobin started rambling all of a sudden, one of her nervous habits when she got caught doing something she didn't want anyone else to find out. Christen used to be the one to calm her down by reaching for her. It was muscle memory, she reasoned with herself. And she can't really say holding Tobin’s hand didn't feel nice, even for a few seconds. She missed that feeling.

Now, she's tipsy and in the backseat. All her inhibitions are down. She really wanted to see Tobin again. She pulled out her phone and started looking for Tobin’s contact. She never deleted it, but Tobin doesn’t have to know that. She didn't need any more reason to think she was even more pathetic.

She started typing.

_Hey, Tobin._ Pathetic. _It’s Christen._ Yeah, it's not like Tobin had her number saved anymore, right? _It was really good to see you again._ Ugh. Pathetic, but it’s the truth. _I’m sorry I had to ask Crystal for your number since I forgot to ask you for it earlier._ Now, that's a lie. _Do you want to go grab coffee sometime?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm a day late. Wi-Fi has been a little slow over here. Forgive any errors, I'm only using my phone right now. lol
> 
> Stay safe everyone! I really appreciate everyone's comments.


	4. Sunsets and Seashells

"How are you even awake right now?" Tobin grunted. She sat up and stretched her arms, trying to shake off her sleep. 

She leaned on the back of the couch to see what the noise was all about. Tori was going through her kitchen cupboards, like a junkie trying to look for their secret stash, the blonde didn't even bother to close the doors gently. Which made Tobin think she was doing on purpose.

"Tobin, where's the coffee?" 

The carpenter stood from her seat with a groan. Maybe the couch wasn't a good idea for her back and her posture. 

"Forgot to grab some the other day," she replied.

"'Course you did."

Tobin turned her attention to the window. It was already bright and she couldn’t hear the usual early birds singing nonstop to greet the day. She did get to sleep in after all but she didn't know how much.

"What time is it?" she asked as she started pawing through the couch, looking for her phone.

"I have no idea," Tori said. She was still in her kitchen, back against the counter, arms crossed and eyes glued on the brunette. She was in a white shirt that fit a little too big for her small frame and loose fitting boxers, no doubt Tobin’s clothing.

Tobin found her phone but it wouldn't light up. 

"Have you seen my charger?" she looked at Tori.

"No, Tobes," she shook her head, "I have not seen your phone charger." 

The brunette went into her room and came out with the charger in hand. She sauntered to the kitchen and plugged her phone on one of the outlets where you could plug in a coffee machine. 

"I swear," Tori started, "if your head wasn't stuck to your gorgeous bod you'd be headless right now."

Tobin rolled her eyes, "And I swear if I had a penny for everytime someone tells me that, I'd be rich." 

"So you've got other girls calling your body gorgeous?" 

"Shut up." Tobin checked her phone, it was still powering up so she could only check the time. It was already 11:34. No wonder she could feel her stomach grumbling.

"I'm just going to shower and head to Ali's for lunch," she said as she walked away from the kitchen.

"You're not even going to invite me?" 

"I can drop you off on the way there," she said bluntly, reminding the girl that she's not really interested in spending time with her outside of what they've agreed on casually.

"Fine." She craned her neck to see Tobin’s disappearing figure and added, "You know we could save a lot of time and water if you let me join you!" 

Her voice echoed in the small hallway that separated the bedroom and the bathroom and Tori was left pouting when she heard the shower start without her.

She felt the kitchen counter tile vibrate with the hand she used to lean on it and saw Tobin’s phone notifications start to stream in. She moved closer to take a peek when she saw a partial text from an unknown number pop up.

_Hey, Tobin. It’s Christen…_

She unlocked the phone, knowing that Tobin never really bothered to put a password in.

-

"So were they _together_?" Ashlyn said in a hushed voice, her head lowered as if she's whispering a huge secret into her coffee cup. 

Ali popped up from where she was crouched down across the blue-green wooden counter where some customers would sit and order. She was restocking some to-go cups she kept underneath it. The breakfast crowd had dissipated. She was getting ready for the lunch rush. Her girlfriend Ashlyn would come in at this hour for brunch on a Saturday since she usually got up late from her Friday night bartending shift. 

"No," she replied, "but those two were so attached at the hip they might as well have been."

"But," Ash pondered, "are you sure? Because the way that that girl, Chris?"

"Christen."

"Right, Christen… the way she was talking about your friend last night and knocking down those shots…"

Ali raised her eyebrow at this. "Christen was taking shots?"

"Like a pro, babe. She was with two other girls too, this blonde chick named Julie and then this other one you went to high school with, Crystal."

"Well, what do you know," the dark haired woman giggled, "College really does change people. You know she would never drink when we were younger? She was always so adamant at being sober." She walked over to the cash register. "Something about 'enjoying her youth to the fullest of her senses'" she quipped, Ashlyn laughed at the air quotes she made.

"Ohhh," Ashlyn motioned for her girlfriend to lean in. Ali's eyes brightened and lips smirked in amusement at Ashlyn's nosiness. It reminded her of a teenager who couldn’t wait to gossip about who's hooking up with who. 

Ashlyn’s job as a bartender, made her an unwilling keeper of town secrets more often than she would like to be. She was witness to one too many drunken exploits either by 21 year old debutants or middle-aged brokenhearted men who drowned their sorrows away in front of her. However, she's only been in town for two years, so most of the time she didn’t know who was related to who. But Ali did and so this became a normal pastime for them, talking about Ashlyn’s job and the townies who didn’t know any better.

Ashlyn continued, "And did you know that they ki–"

The café door swung open, ringing the bell that hung above it, grabbing the couple's attention.

"Two days in a row, Tobes?" Ali acknowledged Tobin who just walked in wearing her an orange beanie, a white oversized shirt that had a small logo print where front pockets were usually stitched on, and black shorts with its drawstrings hanging.

Tobin sat on the swivel bar stool next to Ashlyn and greeted her before turning to Ali. "Morning, Al."

"I see you've slept in," Ali remarked as she set down a cup in front of her friend ready to pour some caffeine into her senses, "Good for you."

Ashlyn rotated her chair so she's facing Tobin, "Where's Tori?"

"Ohhh, so that's why you slept in huh,” Ali smirked, “Late night with a blondie?"

"It wasn’t like that. She was drunk last night and your girlfriend over here," she said nodding at Ashlyn, "thought I was her personal chaperone and called me."

Ali looked at Ashlyn whose hands were now raised in defense. "Don't look at me, her friends told me to call our charming Toby right here."

"Anyways," Tobin sighed, "I dropped her off before I came here. She was so wasted last night."

"What's the deal between you and that girl anyway?” Ashlyn asked, “She was basically throwing herself at you last night."

"I don't know. I told her I'm not up for anything serious, but she's been too clingy lately."

"Uh-oh."

"Be careful, Tobes. You know that never ends well," Ali warned.

Tobin rubbed at her temples, "I know."

She grabbed the cup that Ali set for her and took a slow sip. When she was done, she took a deep breath. "Also, I saw Christen last night."

Ali's eyes grew wide at this and Ashlyn took this as her cue to leave, wanting to give them privacy. But not before reaching over the counter and giving Ali a chaste kiss goodbye. 

When she was out of earshot, Ali exited the counter and sat on the stool that Ashlyn sat in and faced Tobin. There were only three customers in the café at the moment and they were all lost in their own little lives so she had some time.

Tobin, on the other hand, was using a stirrer to aimlessly make swirls on the brown liquid in her cup, waiting for her friend’s barrage of questions. But to her surprise, Ali didn't pry.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Tobin leaned back on her seat and looked up at the ceiling, gathering her thoughts. Ali patiently waited for her friend to speak, knowing from years of experience that Tobin liked to be at her own pace. Like everyone who knew Tobin and Christen, no one really ever got the full story of what went down between the two of them. No one was able to coax it out of Tobin but they saw the carpenter was really devastated even months after. 

"She’s beautiful as ever," she said weakly.

And that was all Tobin could afford to say at the moment. They sat there for a few more minutes. Tobin greatly appreciated how Ali knew that was what she needed in that moment.

Ali got up and started circling back to her station, putting on a new apron.

"So, what do you want for lunch?"

Tobin beamed at her, "Ali's Classic tuna sandwich, please."

-

Tobin had the rest of the day off. After lunch and hours worth of heart-to-heart talk with the cafe owner, she didn't feel like going back to her house yet so she sped past her turn and kept driving for a couple more miles until concrete met the gravel road that led up to her favorite spot in the whole town.

She parked her truck and sat in it for a few minutes before reaching into her glove compartment. She took out a silver skeleton key that looked too polish to be an original copy. A small, delicate light orange conch shell with brown swirls on its exterior dangled on it. She then hooked it onto her car keys and trudged her way to the small pebble pathway that led up to the rusty old metal door of the town's lighthouse. After a few twists and a little heavy pushing, the door hinges finally gave way, allowing Tobin to come in. _I should grease the hinges next time_ , she thought, knowing that the salty air corroded the material. Her steps echoed as she made her way up on the spiral staircase. It has been a while since she came up here. 

When she reached the catwalk outside the top room that contained the rotating lamp of the lighthouse, she closed her eyes and let the strong winds sweep her hair. Never one to be afraid of heights, she leaned on the iron railings and took in the view below her. Rows of small cafés, businesses, and rentals built on eight miles of golden brown sandy shores. Rooftops from bigger houses jutted out of the Oak and palm trees that lined their town.

She could spot a few people along the beach going about their day, although they look more like ants from her vantage point. Sailing and fishing boats in varying shapes and sizes were gliding in and out of the marina waters. She tilted her head to the right and spotted the faded blue silhouette of a two-storey beach house that she used to frequent as a teen. 

As if on instinct, she reached for the car keys that she hooked onto one of her belt loops designed specifically for it and unclipped the lighthouse key. She examined the conch shell and traced every tiny bump and curve it had. She remembered the day Christen found and gave her that seashell.

It was the end of summer before their sophomore year. Tobin and Christen just finished soccer practice with the local U17 club they played for. The sun was already fading away on the horizon and the waves were calm that evening, everything looked so serene with the soft orange glow turning everything golden wherever it touched. 

_“I’m so tired,” Tobin grumbled from underneath the towel she used to wipe her sweat off. She rested both of her legs on the outdoor table as she sunk into the cushioned deck chair that Christen’s patio had._

_“Me too,” said Christen, equally sore and sitting right next to her. They were still in their soccer kits, too exhausted to change out of them. The new school year was right around the corner and that meant they had to do fitness tests before the season started._

_They laid there for a few minutes, Tobin already slipping into a nap when Christen suddenly sat up and startled her awake. Christen began removing her boots and socks and started to walk down the wooden stairs that led to the beach connected to the Press’ property. Tobin hastily removed her own boots and rushed after her best friend._

_“Chris, where are you going?”_

_“Come on. Beach walk. Coach said we need to be doing recovery sessions after practice,” she explained as she spun around and spread her arms, “and what better way to recover than being barefoot on the beach?”_

_Christen giggled as she practically skipped away from Tobin, who just shook her head and followed along the joyful girl. How she managed to still be in a good mood after a brutal training, Tobin had yet to figure out but it never fails to put her in a good mood as well. Christen’s joy was infectious._

_She let the girl walk a few feet away from her, letting both of them have their own personal time and space to just bask in the remaining daylight and carefree hours that summer had to offer. Until Christen suddenly hunched over and flopped on the sand. Tobin sprinted towards her._

_“Chris, are you okay?”_

_Christen folded her right leg over and inspected her foot. No cuts or wounds, but she could feel a dull pain on her heel._

_“I’m fine,” she winced, "I just stepped on something." She started digging through the sand and her hand felt a blunt rounded thing. When she managed to pull out the unknown object, she realized it was a conch shell, about the size of a ping-pong ball. She dusted it off and saw that it was probably one of the most beautiful and intricately designed shells ever created by nature. It had a light-orange body with brown swirls that complemented its spiral shape._

_Tobin got down on the sand and sat close to her. She nudged the girl with her shoulder but Christen was captivated by the shell._

__

_“Yo, are you okay?”_

__

_“Look,” she smiled as she grabbed Tobin’s hand and opened up her palm and gave her the shell, “It’s so pretty.”_

__

_Tobin held the shell between her thumb and index finger like a jeweller determining gold carats._

__

_“Meh, I’d give it a good 7 out of ten.”_

__

_Christen’s jaw dropped and feigned offense, “Ugh, how dare you?” She took the shell back. But Tobin quickly nabbed it and took off with it. When she finally ran out of breath she stopped abruptly, but not before Christen could see her and they crashed into each other in a laughing fit._

__

_When they could breathe again, their backs were on the sand, arms almost touching. Tobin still held the shell tightly on her left hand. She turned her head to her right and looked at Christen, whose eyes were still closed, completely blissed out with a smile that seemed to be permanently carved on her face. She noticed that her hair that was in a bun was now let loose and some of her curls were flowing gently with the breeze. She was glowing underneath the dying light of the sun. Tobin has looked at Christen a hundred times but this was the first time she saw her. Suddenly it was a little hard to breathe and her stomach felt like there were small currents that tickled every fiber of her being. She’s just thankful that the sound of the waves masked the sound of her heart that's pounding in the moment._

__

_“You should keep it.”_

__

_“W-What?”_

__

_“The shell,” she turned her face towards Tobin and slowly opened her eyes. “It reminds me of you.”_

__

_Tobin felt her face warm up. They were now staring at each other and every single cell in her body became hyper aware of this fact. She didn’t know how to respond to that and if she didn't speak up, things would have gotten awkward. She cleared her throat and gave her a bright grin, “Because of my tough outer exterior that can apparently take down the town prodigy in a single swoop?”_

__

_Christen broke her eye contact. “No dumbass,” she snorted. “It’s because in reality you’re really just a soft-bodied sea snail hiding in her outer shell.”_

__

_“Did you just compare me to a mollusk?!”_

__

_“Yeah,” Christen got up. “You big softie!” She dashed away. Tobin ran after her, shell clasped and safe around her hand, “Christen Press, you take that back!”_

__

Tobin sighed at the memory. The wind started to pick up. She didn’t know how long she stood there but the sun was already starting to sink. She started to make her way down the steep spiral steps. She didn’t feel like watching the sunset that day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Always put a password on your phone ;)
> 
> Sorry it's been awhile. Hang in there!   
> Hope everyone is staying safe.


	5. We Need To Stop Meeting Like This

Christen was determined for this day to go well. It was now Monday. She was meeting one of the town’s council members for lunch so they can properly introduce themselves and discuss the details of her company’s project.

She worked for the biggest real estate developers in the country, Leikes/Robinson Realty. It wasn’t really surprising that she ended up working for them. She was top of her Business Management class at Providence University, one of the best schools in the nation. Christen figured that since both of her parents were realtors, it was a destined career path for her. But the field was super competitive. She was surrounded by sharks dressed up in suits 40 hours a week, ready to fight tooth and nail for any piece of big name projects that was up for grabs. Everyone was desperate for any chance at promotions from the higher ups. 

It wasn’t a problem for Christen though because this was a job suited for her. Christen has been working for the company for three years now. She was hired right out of college because of her tenacity and resourcefulness. Christen was able to see potential in any property or land that most developers would tend to ignore. She was a visionary. This is why she has been promoted to Senior Project Manager by her second year. But Christen was hungry for more, she was never satisfied with any closed deal. 

And so with every expensive bottle of champagne popped, every ribbon cut, every shovel that dug dirt at every ground breaking ceremony, Christen’s dissatisfaction just grew. She’s tried to satiate herself over the years with every facet of want a human being could ever crave for: booze, relationships that never last for more than a few months, one night stands, parties, luxurious condominiums, expensive BMWs. Nothing seemed to fill the gaping hole that seemed to grow bigger the more she had these things. She was miserable. Desperate, she called her mom in the middle of the night and had a five hour phone call with her where she realized two things: the most important was that she didn’t really know herself anymore and that she really wanted to come home.

So Christen, ever the solution-oriented person, decided that maybe the problem was that she kept taking and taking all these years. Maybe it was time to give back, and what better way to start by going back to her roots. With renewed vigor, and lots of espressos, overnight she came up with a plan that would benefit both her and her bosses. She remembered how the hurricane devastated her town a year ago and that folks were still struggling to get back on their feet. 

The next day she set up a meeting with the executive board and pitched the idea of community investment, affordable housing, how it would help rebuild and revive the coastal town and how philanthropic work would look good on the company image. It was a hard sell though, since the word “philanthropy” really doesn’t fit in with these tycoons who are all about profit. But because Christen has been one of their top brokers, they gave her a _maybe_ , as long as she could prove that the return of investment was tenfold. Which is how she ended up back home. A month long feasibility study on how Christen can save the town. A chance to do something good for someone else this time, which is something that she hasn’t done in a while. It was the perfect plan that killed two birds (named quarter-life crisis and homesickness) with one stone.

Though this new perspective, this new way of life that Christen was trying to practice, reminded her so much of a certain brown-eyed woman who was all about service.

She knew Tobin was back in their town, thanks to Stacy who never failed to sneak the topic into the phone calls they’ve shared throughout the years. If she was being completely honest, she knows in her heart that losing Tobin was a huge factor in why she’s felt anchorless. Maybe it was time to finally stop running away from it. But, personal problems aside, this project was super important and Christen cannot mess this up. The worst thing a person could do was give hope to people only to take it away. 

In fact, Christen grappled with those hope-crushing feelings over the weekend. Christen spent the weekend mostly in her pajamas, on her mom’s couch, eating frozen yogurt ice cream straight out of the tubs and rewatching old Christmas movies despite them still almost halfway through June. Every now and then she would glance at her phone next to her, even though her notification volume was set as high as it could be, with the vibration turned on. Being the millennial that she is, she has never turned her sound notification on ever since that phone was taken out of its box. But her phone never lit up, except for the few occasions that work related messages would come in, and everytime Christen would check it, her pout only got bigger. She was so close to just chucking her phone across the room every time it happened.

Tobin never texted her back. 

But that’s okay. It’s fine. She’s fine. It wasn’t like she had anyone one else to blame for her predicament, right? She completely understands why Tobin would ignore her like that. After years of silence from her side, she doesn’t have any right to demand from Tobin in that way. Not anymore. But even after that super awkward run-in at the bar, Tobin did say she was going to see her around. For half a day, she was hopeful that her drunken audacity to ask Tobin out for coffee was going to pave the way forward for them to maybe fix things or at least have some closure. 

So yes, Christen was determined for this day to go well after that very long weekend of suck. Today was an important day to make a good impression. As soon as Christen woke up, she got into her black Nike dri-fit training tights and sports bra, tied her previously straightened hair into a top bun, and decided to shake all off those angsty thoughts with some light yoga and an early morning 5 mile run along the beach. She needed to focus.

If she started her day off right, everything will go along smoothly, she promised to herself.

-

“Hi,” Christen rose from her seat, “I’m Christen Press.” She introduced herself as she shook the hands of a man donning a three-piece dark blue suit complemented with a burgundy tie that looked like it cost a teacher’s monthly salary. She found this odd given the state of things in town. The man’s sharpness also didn’t fit the profile of any long time resident, which made her question even more as to why this guy was a member of the town council, knowing that for most of her life in that small town, the council members looked more modest than the one in front of her now.

“Phil Castellan,” he answered, gripping her hand tightly. He flashed his eerily perfect pearly whites and took off the sunglasses from his eyes, folded it, and set it on the table. They were strikingly blue, but the way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes made it feel ice cold. It felt awfully familiar, like she was back in the corporate offices. Christen also realized that she was actually looking down. She was taller than the guy by a few inches, and she wasn’t even wearing heels today. Not that it mattered too much but to Christen, reading people and first impressions were important and what did people say about short guys compensating? 

“So,” he cleared his throat and adjusted his tie as he gestured for Christen to take a seat. “Press? As in number 5 Cherry Lane Press?” 

Christen was caught off guard, “Uhm, yes.” She straightened her posture, feeling a little less in control at the moment, “How did you know?”

“Oh, I know your parents,” he said matter-of-factly and left it at that. That was weird. He started to pore over the lunch menu so Christen did the same. 

“See anything you like?” He said, now staring at Christen, full set of front teeth on display again trying to make conversation. “I hope you like this restaurant. I’m a regular here, in fact, I’m friends with the owner. You have to try some of their grilled salmon. It’s a personal favorite!” 

Christen looked up from her menu and started to take in the place, now that he’s mentioned it. It looked modern, newly built. They were seated on the terrace, the ocean in view. Above them were exposed wooden beams that extended like a canopy. She could tell that the interiors were nautical themed but more subtle, its color palette consisting of blue and white. The waiters wore grey button ups and ties with waist aprons. It may be an open aired space but she can tell it’s fancy. She’s glad she wasn’t too under-dressed for this meeting, not that she was ever not appropriately dressed for every event. She decided to redo her bun from earlier, knowing that the ocean breeze would not be on her side when it came to her wild curls. She looked casual but elegant in her striped, high-waisted and wide-legged navy trousers that she wore with a simple, tighter-fitting sleeveless rounded beige top. 

“I think the place looks great,” she smiled. “Thank you. I’m really big on salads though, do you have any recommendations?”

“Ah, of course,” he smirked, “You’re one of those… I suppose if you don’t want to get a little chubby cheeked especially with that figure. Moment on the lips lifetime on the hips, right? That’s what I always tell my wife!” He chuckled to himself, “You should try their Fattoush or maybe the classic Caesar’s. You could never go wrong with that.” 

_What the hell?_ It took every ounce of Christen’s will to not scowl at Phil in that moment, since she’s known for wearing her heart on her face. Time to tuck away her thoughts and set it aside again. Breathe, she reminded herself. She still needed to make a good impression if she ever wanted to succeed at her goals. Luckily, a waitress approached their table, giving her something else to focus on.

“Hey guys,” the waitress greeted them with a smile and a weirdly high pitched voice. “My name is Lindsey,” she said, “And I’m your host for today. Are you ready to order?” Christen could tell it was her customer service voice. She studied her face and decided that the kid was still probably in college. 

“Yes,” Christen answered, “I’ll just have your Caesar’s salad please. And some water with lemon and ice. Thank you, Lindsey.”

“Ohhh-kayyyyy,” said Lindsey as she clicked away on her iPad to put in her order. She turned to Phil, “And you, sir?”

“Grilled salmon,” he answered while he scanned the wine menu, “And a Pinot Noir.”

“Would that be all?”

“Oh and could you come back in a few minutes?” Phil added, “We actually have another guest coming, she’s just running late as usual.”

“Of course! I’ll be back in a few.” Lindsey turned around and left.

Christen’s thoughts were on overdrive, “Another guest?” she asked, confused. She doesn’t remember anything about a third party joining their meeting. Anxiety slowly crept into her mind but she shrugged her shoulders trying to shake it off.

“Oh, my bad,” he said, “I forgot to mention, Mayor Stella wanted another person in our team as a community consultant.” He took a sip of the complementary water from the restaurant. “Not that we actually need her, I tried to convince the mayor that I could handle the meeting myself but she insisted. Just because I’ve only been living here for two years, doesn’t mean I didn’t do my research.”

So that explained some things. Phil wasn’t born and raised in town, he was a transplant, probably one of those rich businessmen types who were attracted to the coastal town life. Christen assumed, but it still didn’t explain how he held a position in the council. She would have to ask around for answers.

“And what she says goes, I merely serve at the pleasure,” his voice tightened, mouth slightly twitching. Was that contempt in his voice? Christen wondered. Something caught his attention and he looked past Christen’s shoulders. Since Christen was facing the ocean view, her back was naturally turned against the restaurant’s entrance, she didn’t see who just arrived.

Phil stood from his seat. “Speaking of, Christen, this is our community consultant,” he gestured behind her right and she felt a figure looming over.

“Sorry, I’m late,” said a slightly lower but still feminine and all-too familiar voice that Christen’s heart recognized in an instant. Christen’s shock caused her to involuntarily stand from her seat just as the newly arrived woman turned to her to shake her hand. 

“Hi, I’m To-”

“Tobin,” she gulped, ignoring Tobin’s extended hand.

“Wait, you know her?” Phil interjected.

“Yeah,” Christen confirmed.

“Kinda,” Tobin said simultaneously as she retracted her arm. Christen was taken aback by this. It felt like someone stabbed a dagger in her heart and twisted the knife. She’s just thankful that the millisecond gasp she let out was inaudible.

“We went to high school together,” Christen answered but did not explain any further.

Tobin’s brows furrowed at this but then her face softened. “Right,” she sighed.

Phil looked back and forth at the two. He sensed it was getting tense so he suggested they all took their seat. His eyes scanned around the restaurant looking for the waitress. She spotted Lindsey by the bar arranging some wine glasses.

“Oi,” he whistled at her, “waitress! We need you.”

Tobin and Christen both looked like they wanted to punch Phil in that moment, Tobin even more so. She sat on Christen’s right side so Christen could see how her left hand was suddenly gripping the edge of the table too strongly, her veins popping out. Christen didn’t realize she was staring at her long, slender fingers in fascination until her focus snapped back when Lindsey arrived.

“Hello, again. I’m sorry about the delay ma’am.” Lindsey apologized to Tobin. Christen noticed that Tobin calmed down in her presence, her expression more sympathetic. Tobin loosened her grip. They must know each other.

“It’s okay, Linds. You don’t have to apologize,” she said, “And I know you’re at work but you don’t have to call me ma’am.” Tobin then turned to her companions, “She volunteers with me at the after school soccer club with the kids. Lindsey’s going to go pro someday.” She gave Lindsey a wink.

“Okay, Tobin, stop” Lindsey blushed. “What can I get you, ma’am?”

Tobin rolled her eyes playfully, “I’ll just have a cheeseburger please,” and then she briefly glanced at Christen before turning back to her, “and some fries, too. Thank you!” 

Christen shifted in her seat. She knew that Tobin knew how much she loved fries. Christen used to raid Tobin’s fries whenever they ate at drive-thrus together, Tobin pretended she hated it all the time but she secretly set aside some of her fries for Christen. 

This might be the hardest lunch she’s ever had to sit through.

As soon as Lindsey left, Phil started making comments again. “Really, Tobin?” Phil sneered, “A cheeseburger? This is one of the most expensive restaurants in this town and you ordered a cheeseburger?” 

Tobin smiled and leaned forward in her seat, both arms now crossed at the table. “What can I say Phil,” she said, “a restaurant is only as good as its simplest dish.”

Phil gave her a glance over, “I guess…” he said, “you’ve always been so _simple_.” He said the word with such distaste but Tobin didn’t seem fazed at all by his condescension.

Christen sat there and watched the exchange, she unconsciously checked out Tobin when Phil was doing the same. Tobin really did look simple, but she made simple look really good. She wore a white t-shirt that was meant to look a little crinkled. A denim jacket was tied to her waist and she was wearing blue jeans. Her chestnut hair was a little wavy cascading on her strong shoulders and she wore a brown fedora hat that really brought out her brown eyes in the light of midday.

“So, Christen.” Christen’s head snapped back in attention. Phil continued, “Shall we get started?”

“Yes,” she nodded, “That’s probably the best idea you’ve had all day.” Phil totally missed the shady remark but it earned a small giggle from Tobin. She reached for her bag and got out her laptop and they got started with their meeting.

-

About thirty minutes into their meeting, Lindsey came back with their food so they took a break and ate lunch. Once they were done, Christen took the lead again, showing Phil and Tobin her proposals. Everything was going smoothly until Phil had to excuse himself to take a call, leaving Tobin and Christen at the table.

Christen was suddenly very interested in her pie charts and graphs but she could feel Tobin staring at her intensely. If Tobin had laser eyes, the back of Christen’s laptop probably had holes in them by now. Tobin cleared her throat, trying to catch Christen’s attention. But Christen was determined to ignore her, the same way Tobin ignored her text all weekend. Which wasn’t really fair because she ignored Tobin for years but Tobin made it clear in the last two days. She wanted nothing to do with her anymore. So why is she all of a sudden being so difficult?

When Tobin realized that Christen was ignoring her on purpose, she finally spoke up. “Chris.” She said in a stern voice that Christen couldn’t help but meet her gaze.

“What?” she answered with a bite in her tone.

“Wait,” Tobin’s eyes widened at this, now confused, “why are you mad at me?”

Christen let out a dry laugh. Was she being serious now? She opened her mouth to respond but Phil chose that exact moment to return.

“Sorry about that ladies,” he said, “now where were we?”

Christen composed herself quickly, “No worries.” She flipped her laptop again so they could see her screen and continued with her report on the long-term financial projections of the affordable housing project. Tobin studied Christen’s face for a few seconds longer before she decided to focus back on the presentation. She was beyond baffled by Christen’s behavior. 

It took another hour before they finally adjourned. Phil excused himself right away explaining that his country club buddies were waiting for him so they could play golf. Christen gathered her stuff swiftly as Phil walked away, hoping to avoid a confrontation with Tobin who was now back to staring at Christen. She could sense that Tobin wanted to continue their conversation earlier but she was determined to end her day well so she quickly excused herself to the bathroom, hoping that when she came out of it, Tobin would be gone.

But just as the bathroom door closed, it burst open again and Christen who was bracing herself against the marble counter looked up and found herself staring at Tobin’s equally distraught reflection on the mirror.

“What do you want, Tobin?” she said, talking to her through the mirror because she doesn’t think she’ll make it through this conversation without crying if she was face to face with her.

“Chris, listen,” she said taking two steps forward, “I don’t know what I did for you to get mad at me like this but I can tell that this project is important to you and I feel like me being a part of this might jeopardize it or something… I don’t know…” her voice broke a little, “So I’ll ask the mayor to find a different person in my place if it makes you comfortable.”

Christen couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Y-you don’t know?” she laughed wryly. “Look, Tobin,” she exhaled, “I don’t know what game you’re playing but it’s okay.” Christen realized too late that tears already formed in her eyes and she instinctively wiped her cheek when a drop fell. She lowered her head, not wanting Tobin to see her like this. “You don’t have to make excuses for the sake of my comfort,” she continued, “I know you want nothing to do with me. I know you don’t want to see me so let’s just stop the crap and act like adults, okay? With your experience and connections, you’re the perfect fit for this project and I need to succeed. If working together makes that possible then I’m sure we can act professional in front of everybody.”

“So,” she turned around, “I’m sure, you have my number. I’ll be sending you the details of our next meeting.” She said finally and briskly headed for the exit. Christen was running away again and not even giving Tobin a chance to respond. 

Tobin, whose face was now damp with tears, more confused and more hurt than ever, was left alone in the bathroom. Christen’s last words bounced on the bathroom walls and echoed in her brain. _"You have my number."_ What did she mean? She grabbed a few paper towels, wiped her tears and fixed her hat. She took her phone out and looked at her contacts. What was she talking about? She couldn’t find Christen’s number saved anywhere. She then checked her inbox, which admittedly, she doesn’t really check that often and Tobin wanted to punch herself right there for being so stupid. She opened the text thread and saw the time stamp. She really did have Christen’s number because Christen texted her a few hours after they bumped into each other at the bar. Christen asked her out to coffee. No wonder the green-eyed girl was mad at her. But she was confused because she would have responded in a heartbeat if she read the text when she was meant to, but it was already marked as read that’s why she never noticed. 

She walked out of the bathroom and left the restaurant, but not before leaving a twenty dollar tip for Lindsey at their table. 

She drove home that night racking her brain as to how her message was already marked read, trying to figure out how to explain to Christen that it was all a misunderstanding the next time they saw each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me @notanotherflwd on twitter and notanotherflwdwriter on tumblr if you want to scream at me. :)
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading!


	6. In My Head, I Do Everything Right

Christen gripped the steering wheel with her left hand as she reached for her phone on the dashboard. Her grey BMW M3 was now parked on the driveway in front of her parent's house. She doesn't even remember the drive back home and honestly it was a miracle she didn't get into any accidents while she drove. 

She'd been blinking her tears away ever since she left the restaurant. She only managed to keep her emotions together as she passed through the dining area, dodging the eyes of the other servers and patrons as she tried to do a speedy exit. But once she got inside her car, all of the pent up frustration at her situation was finally at capacity and like a dam weakened by natural forces over time, water that seeped through the cracks finally burst through the whole barrier. 

She would add “seeing through tears” to her resume because she was so good at it. So much for ending her day well now. Tobin just had to roll in that restaurant and derail all of her plans. Of course only Tobin could break her dam of emotions. She hasn’t even been back in Christen’s life for more than a few days and she’s already unraveled. But this doesn’t come as a surprise. She just had that effect on Christen, even when they were still inseparable. Tobin was a lot of things but to Christen, she’s always felt like her own personal natural phenomenon. An inevitable earthquake meant to shake things up, keep her on her toes. A volcano in its dormant state, quiet and harmless, until that moment of eruption that lights up everything in its path, beautiful and dangerous. But right now, Tobin was the earthquake that broke all of her emotional barriers.

Before she could further brood, her phone started to buzz from its holder on the dashboard. When she saw the caller ID she had to take a quick deep breath and pull herself together. It was one of her bosses and she had to check in, which was standard after the first meeting with a potential client.

_"Hey, Mr. Robinson… Yes… I'm good… The meeting went well…"_

The call lasted about ten minutes. Her phone was still in her hand as she opened the car door and tried to get out, but she was immediately pulled back in her seat. She still had her seatbelt on and the strong fabric caused some friction leaving a small burning sensation on her collar. "Fuck!" she cursed under her breath as she unbuckled herself from her seat.

The force also made her drop her phone somewhere underneath the driver's seat. She groaned, getting more annoyed by the second. After another five minutes of crouching and crawling to find the device, she finally got it back and put it in her laptop sling bag. She took a shaky breath, she used both of her hands to smooth her hair all the way back, a stress habit she’s developed in college. She gathered her things and made her way to their door but when she tried to open it with the keys her mom gave her to use, it didn't work. She tried the extra copy that was hooked onto it but after a few turns, she was still unsuccessful. 

It was already a bad day but it seemed that the universe wasn't done with her yet. She tried the first key again but because her hands were getting shaky from the frustration, she accidentally dropped the whole key set. That was the last straw. 

The tears fell faster before she could squat and pick them up. She really felt so pathetic, like a child that got picked last when kids were making their dodgeball teams during recess. 

Stacy heard the noise and the knob turn a few times from inside the house. When she opened the door, she was shocked to see the usually strong-headed career girl pouting and shaking on the half-inch step. "Mo?” Christen turned and rose from her spot and crashed into her mother’s open arms. “Oh, baby girl what's wrong?" Stacy asked, wrapping Christen in a tight hug as she led them through the doorway.

Upon hearing her mom’s voice, Christen only broke down harder. It was like being transported back to her elementary days when she would get picked on by much older, much bigger kids on the soccer team because she was better than them and they didn't like getting shown up by a kid, much less a tiny girl. She would come home crying back then, and telling her mom all about how the bigger kids are mean and how she swears that when she got bigger she would punch them in the face. Stacy held back her giggles, knowing that her sweet little Mo would probably hold up her promises but also knowing that Christen really doesn't mean any of it because deep down she is a sweet girl. She was just angry at the moment. Christen was just a crier, whether she was angry or happy, her emotions always escaped through her tear ducts. 

Stacy moved them onto their living room area. She's letting her cry it out first in her arms as they cuddled up on the L-shaped sofa. When the sobs finally turned into sniffles, Christen finally stopped clinging to her mom and slowly separated herself into her own space on the couch. Stacy’s hand was still comforting her by giving her soft rubs on her back. Christen was grateful for the contact as she attempted to give her a small smile. She took a deep breath before letting out a small shaky giggle, laughing at how childish she was acting when she was a grown-ass woman. But Stacy was still looking at her with concern, but waiting for an explanation from Christen.

"Sorry, mom," she sniffed. "I didn't mean to go all crybaby on you."

"Christen," she said, squeezing her knee. "That's nonsense. You'll always be my baby, Mo. You never have to hide your crying from me."

Her words just made Christen teary-eyed again, but she could see she was fighting it so she just pulled her back in again and let her rest her head on her shoulders, wrapping left arm around her. "Can you tell me what happened?" 

Christen buried her face into her mom’s shirt. "I fucked up, mom," she said in a muffled voice, not really wanting to hear herself say it, too. "I fucked up so bad," she continued, as she revealed her face again. She grabbed the nearest sofa pillow and hugged it to her chest.

"Did the meeting go horribly?" Stacy asked, looking at her, brows knitted.

"No, the meeting went well," she clarified, "It's just– I just…" Her bottom lip quivered, just the thought of saying Tobin’s name made her want to cry again. But she knew she had to give her mom an explanation for the waterworks and the worry she knows she is feeling right now.

"Tobin," she confessed, hugging her pillow tighter. "She was there. I didn’t know she was going to be there."

"What was she doing at your meeting?"

"You know Mr. Castellan? Phil?"

"Yeah, he's a businessman," Stacy remembered, "but your dad and I don't really like him." She admitted. Christen raised her brow at this, curious to know what could he have done to make her parents feel that way despite the fact that they're literally the least judgmental people she knew. But before she could press on her mom continued. "What about him?" 

"He forgot to tell me about the mayor wanting another person on our team,” she explained, “a community consultant."

"And Tobin is the community consultant." Stacy figured. Christen nodded in response, silently thankful that her mom always connected things quickly.

"I wish I had known!" Christen whined, "I would have been more prepared to deal with her being there. I could have– I would have been able to control my emotions around her! Now it's all ruined. It's over…"

Stacy started rubbing her hands on Christen's side to try and soothe her. She still had so many questions and Christen's ramblings were really out of context. "Mo, help me understand,” she asked, “Is she not a good fit for the job?" 

"No, she is. She's perfect actually. She’s had years of service experience around the country." Christen answered.

"It's just–" Christen hesitated, she didn’t really like to divulge her and Tobin’s issues with her mom since she felt it too personal, but she was feeling helpless and hopeless. Tobin probably hated her even more after their encounter, so it doesn't really matter now. "We bumped into each other last Friday and I texted her to meet for coffee and maybe try and… fix things," she said, her voice getting smaller with the last two words, "but she didn't text back."

"Oh, Mo…" Stacy hugged her even tighter, as if it was the only force that kept Christen from falling apart right there on the couch. This was probably getting accurate by the minute.

"I don't blame her," Christen added. "I know I'm acting like a brat. It was all my fault, mom. It's just fair…"

"But?" Stacy coaxed, always knowing where her daughter's head is going. 

"B-but I just really thought– or hoped." Christen went quiet for a few seconds, feeling embarrassed by how she acted earlier. "I snapped at her," she admitted, "I let my emotions get in the way again and I snapped at her for not texting me back."

"She probably hates me now." Christen burrowed herself deeper into her mom’s embrace. "And we still have to work together." She sighed, realizing how much she screwed things up for herself and for Tobin and most especially for her work. She knows that if she wanted any chance at success, she needed to compartmentalize. Trade those cardboard boxes for vaults. Keep her emotions in check, locked in, sealed airtight and throw away the key. 

"Mo," Stacy said, as she broke their embrace and held her by her shoulders at arm's length to get a good look at her daughter. "Look at me," she beckoned, lifting Christen's chin up, "You're one of the smartest and most resilient people I know. And I'm sure of this because I raised you." This made Christen smile, it was true. Her mom raised her to be a strong and proud woman.

"I don't know what's going to happen between you and Tobin," she said in all honesty, "but honey, I know you can do this. It's not going to be easy, it never is with the people we care about." She held both sides of her face and wiped her tears with her thumbs. "But you've got so much heart, baby girl. It's why you never back down from any challenge, even if you made mistakes. I know you'll figure out a way to work with Tobin, you always figure it out. Your heart always finds the right place."

Christen nodded, not really believing Stacy’s words but she was getting exhausted from crying so she didn't protest. "Tell you what," Stacy had an idea. She stood up from her seat and tried to pull up Christen. "Why don't you go get changed upstairs and I'll put on The Grinch and grab your favorite froyo from the fridge? It can be our movie night. Just the two of us."

Christen's puffy eyes lit up at this, never one to turn down Christmas movies and froyo. "Thanks, mom." She hugged her and made her way up the wooden stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not abandoning this story. lol just been busy lately.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think :)


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